


Come Inside

by LPM



Series: Lone Wolf and Lil Red [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Anal, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Drug Use, Drugs, Fingerfucking, M/M, Rave, Recreational Drug Use, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-02
Updated: 2013-02-02
Packaged: 2017-11-27 22:11:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/667044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LPM/pseuds/LPM
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"...The crowd is going nuts over something, someone throwing a raft full of hot girls to ride on the wave of hands, but Stiles is occupied with the feel of Derek’s mouth devouring him, licking filthy strokes inside, his hands hot and firm searing a brand against the bare skin under Stiles’ shirt...."</p><p>or</p><p>Derek, Stiles, and The Gang go to a show, everybody gets a little (a lot) hot under the collar. But don't worry, nothing a little shower won't fix.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Come Inside

**Author's Note:**

> AN: So here it is finally! The third installment of this fantastical ride through Sterek and college and raves and whatnot; in the last story, we found our gang twisted up in mishap, in this one we’ll find them twisted up in quite something else (its each other).
> 
> Oh yeah! If you like, check out my tumblah! Its thelpm.tumblr.com and it's a whole lot of really dirty gifs and pics atm, but once I’m on it more….well it’ll be a whole lot of dirty gifs and pics still, but more other stuff too!
> 
> Anyay, enjoy! (I hope)

The drive to Leland Parks clocks in at just under 2 hours long, and they spend the entire time singing loudly and terribly to 90s hits. Derek argues that the nostalgia makes the songs good, they’re all actually terrible; Stiles politely tells him he has no taste because he willingly listens to Coldplay. This earns him a withering look and a comment about his being a wiseass but Erica and Boyd had agreed, Derek’s taste in music is questionable at best, so really Stiles had won.

 

Leland Parks is the cheapo equivalent of Disney, lower on the rung, even, than Six Flags in terms of amusement park prestige. There are only three in the country, and the one in California is out in the middle of nowhere, half run-down and barely visited. Which means it's the perfect venue for a show.

 

“Lunalectric?” Derek had raised his eyebrows at Stiles when, three weeks ago, he had brought him the flier with stars in his eyes.

 

“Yeah, it’s gonna be tight!” Stiles had enthused, “all the best DJs are gonna be there and the really good part? Its all the way out at Leland Parks!”

 

When Derek had continued to stare at him quizzically, Stiles had rolled his eyes and explained.

 

“Last big event they did was at like, Six Flags and there were _families_ running around with kids! I was in neon hot pants and a giant feather Mohawk in front of people’s children man!”

 

Stiles could see Derek imagining him in his rave gear; his face had done an odd spasm, caught between thoroughly weirded out and very aroused.

 

“Anyway, no one goes to Leland Parks anymore so its perfect for a rave and we’re going!” he said. Derek had done a big sigh, like he does when he knows he’s defeated but still has to say something,

 

“who’s we,” he’d asked, already mentally clearing his schedule.

 

“You, me, Erica, The Gang basically. Danny’s got his guy Greenburg for the bad stuff so we’re all set!” Stiles had smiled beatifically “it’s gonna be awesome. You’ll see.”

 

Now, sitting in the driver’s seat of their rented SUV with Stiles, Erica, Lydia, Boyd, Jackson, and Isaac making a ruckus behind him, Derek feels more than a little regret in agreeing so easily.

 

Not that Stiles hadn’t made his gratitude known. Memories of that mobile mouth, stretched tight and shining spit-slick red around his cock later that night still feature heavily in Derek’s dreams.

 

* * *

 

When they reach the park, Derek sees hundreds of other cars, people milling around in brightly colored ensembles and crazy accessories. The sun is still up and blazing so none of the LED lights are out yet, but when the sun goes down the place will light up. Already he can hear the music, booming emphatically from speakers as one of the minor DJs plays their set to a relaxed crowd. That will change later too, as the sun sets and the wildness sets into people’s blood.

 

There are booths set up all around the park and the rides are operated by bored, slate faced park workers who send narrow-eyed envious looks at the show-goers.

 

“Security was weak!” Jackson scoffs when they get into the park. Derek doesn’t say anything but he sort of agrees, the searches done had been cursory, uninterested, and obvious about it.

 

“Its cuz they know what we’re here for” Danny says calmly, sliding his arms through the straps of his neon drawstring backpack. “As long as no one’s carrying a gun or a bomb or something obvious like that, its not like they care.”

 

Lydia walks up, face smug,

 

“they barely even looked in my bag” she says, “kinda makes it annoying to have put the stuff up my v---“

 

Stiles cuts her off before she finishes _that_ sentence.

 

* * *

 

“GIVE IT UP! FOR DJ LOUP!” the announcer booms and Stiles feels the crowd’s roar in his bones.

 

“I _fucking_ LOVE THIS GUY!!!!” Jackson yells, arms pumping already as the speakers begin to thump. Next to him, Lydia is moving her body energetically, strawberry-blonde hair free and glorious in the dying rays of the sun.

Already Allison and Scott are locked at the lips, dancing inappropriately slowly to the fast beat, as if no one else exists. Stiles would roll his eyes but he’s caught in a moment, enjoying the cool breeze that sweeps over the heated crowd as the sun does its rapid descent beneath the horizon.  Darkness falls relatively quickly, and the moment after DJ Loupe finishes his set, the stage goes dark, plunging them all into sudden twilight. The crowd murmurs confusedly for a minute but then there’s a noise, like an electric hum, and the park blazes suddenly, fairy lights winking to life and illuminating everything.

 

“WOOOO!” the crowd screams and the stage comes alive again, another, bigger, DJ starting their set.

 

“This is awesome!” Isaac shouts, bare chest sparkling with glitter and paint. “this is so awesome!”

 

Scott, who has broken apart from Allison, agrees with him and then they’re dancing together, Allison sandwiched between them, grinding up against both guys with unusually wanton abandon.

 

Danny has found another guy to twist around his skilled fingers and they dance energetically, even though they’re both drenched in sweat. He always manages to pick _someone_ up and Stiles has wondered at his allure for a long time.

 

Not that he really needs the seduction powers of Danny Mahealani at the moment, considering the he has Derek. Derek who doesn’t really dance but stands swaying to the music with Stiles going nuts in front of him. Derek who is so into Stiles that he barely has to restrain himself from doing something when Boyd sweeps Erica up _Notebook_ style and they begin a filthy makeout right there next to him.

 

Stiles closes his eyes and he can still see the wildly flashing lights of the stage, his body seems to move without direction, jiving along to the electronic beat, heart thrumming with the deep bass. His skin is slightly slick with sweat but he’s cool because of the cool night breeze he feels like a caress.

 

Derek isn’t touching him, except at his hips where his hands had latched and not moved from since, but its not his firm grip that Stiles feels. Its when Derek’s hot gaze is on him that he swears he can feel it. If the breeze is a gentle caress, then Derek’s gaze is a bold stroke, a hot lick of flame against him.

 

Stiles turns around suddenly and he meets Derek’s eyes, instantly brought back in time to that first rave where they had met. When Derek had been nothing but a dark stranger, undressing Stiles with his bold gaze from across a hot and crowded room. Sometimes Stiles is blown away, absolutely knocked on his ass by how things have changed since then.

 

They’ve been giving a go of actually dating each other for the past two months, spending time with each other and their friends over holing up and immediately get down to doing the deed like Stiles really wanted to. It made sense to hold off on climbing into bed and ignoring all the other things that come along with being in a relationship. And that’s what Stiles wants with Derek. A relationship. Not just a handful of (really hot) hookups in surprisingly clean warehouse raves. But Stiles likes Derek, he really really does, and now he thinks the wait is done.

 

The song changes, bass getting downright filthy, and its clearly grinding music; Stiles steps close to Derek, presses so close he swears he can feel the fibers of the muscle tank (neon yellow at Stiles’ insistence) Derek is wearing.

 

“Hey…” he pants, undulating his hips against Derek, “hey.”

 

Derek’s hands press him tighter still, closer, his answering “yeah” is rough and gravel voiced.

 

“Later, like later when we go home, you’re gonna fuck me.” Stiles smirks at Derek’s low growl, at the spasm of Derek’s hands at his waist,

 

“you’re gonna lay me out on that bed of yours, gonna spread my fucking legs, and we’re gonna do it,” he pants against Derek’s ear, lips grazing skin. He leans in, smiling wide, and whispers,

 

“I’ll even let you come inside.”

 

The crowd is going nuts over something, someone throwing a raft full of hot girls to ride on the wave of hands, but Stiles is occupied with the feel of Derek’s mouth _devouring_ him, licking filthy strokes inside, his hands hot and firm searing a brand against the bare skin under Stiles’ shirt.

 

* * *

 

When the show ends, everyone is tired and thirsty, straining at the end of their energy reserves. Jackson complains sorely of the insides of his cheeks being shredded to hell, Lydia scolds him about forgetting his binky without the least bit of pity, but she hands him soothing cream and water when they get to the car.

 

Isaac goes back with Allison and Scott. He’s flushed and riddled with hickeys, Stiles had wanted to ask questions, but Scott’s hands placed firmly on Isaac’s ass on one side, and Allison’s on the other, does a lot of explaining for him. He spies them as they pull out of the parking lot, Isaac pushed against Scott’s car, grinding against Scott’s leg where its pressed between his legs, as Scott does things with his mouth that Stiles would rather never have seen from his best friend. Allison is latched against Scott’s back, hands roving along his bare chest and mouth at his neck.

Erica catcalls and Lydia yells out inappropriate suggestions. They laugh about it as they set out home.

 

* * *

 

By the time they drop everyone off, it’s extremely late. Stiles yawns and stretches when they pull up in front of Derek’s house and park behind his Jeep.

 

“Home sweet home” he murmurs tiredly, and slips out of the car to shuffle into the house, feeling like his skin should be melting off his bones.

 

The house is dark and quiet when he steps inside. They had dropped Erica and Boyd off at Boyd’s car, which was parked at Jackson’s house. Seeing as they haven’t returned….Stiles doesn’t finish the thought, preferring to leave the intricacies of their sex life outside of his imagination. Isaac is probably at Allison’s with Scott and wasn’t _that_ and interesting development? Stiles had seen the looks Isaac gives Scott when he thinks no one notices, he just never though Scott and Allison would pull themselves apart long enough to see them too.

 

Derek’s bed looks huge and inviting but Stiles feels revolting so he strips and heads to the shower, intent on washing the glitter, paint, and sweat off of him.

 

“Sweet baby jesus,” he moans when the hot water hits his aching muscles. The water runs many colors, sluicing paint off his skin, already Stiles feels himself returning to human.

 

“I see you started the fun without me,” Derek says from somewhere beyond the thick wall of steam in the shower, Stiles startles and turns to see him emerge from the swirling white veil like some Olympian demigod, perfectly toned body streaked with glitter and paint much like Stiles’ had been.

 

“Yeah…” Stiles says weakly, mouth completely dry on the inside as he watches Derek step under the spray and the paint immediately begin to slide off him.

 

“Hand me the Irish Springs?” Derek asks neutrally, seemingly unaffected by their extreme nearness…and nakedness.

 

“S-sure.” Stiles says, and his earlier exhaustion is all but gone, chased away by a sudden surge of arousal, and the heated memory of the words he had whispered from his own lips,

 

_“I’ll even let you come inside.”_

* * *

 

Shower taken, they both step out and dry off, Derek calm as anything, easily going through the post-shower motions like his boyfriend isn’t naked and mostly wet next to him. When they’re both dry, they step into the bedroom, Stiles chalking Derek’s seeming disinterest up to exhaustion and resolving himself to a night spent asleep.

 

Except, when he goes to pick up some sleep shorts, Derek stops him. Grabs his arm and tugs him so he comes sprawling into Derek’s chest. He tries to stand, move back, but Derek’s arms are like a vise around him, keeping him in place,

 

“what was it again?” Derek says quietly, dangerously,

 

“what was I gonna do to you tonight?” he asks mock musing. Stiles gulps,

 

“Oh yeah, now I remember.” Derek walks them back until Stiles’ legs hit the bed and he falls back.

 

“Lay you out on my bed,” Derek positively growls, hot eyes roving over Stiles naked body, sprawled limbs akimbo on the pristine navy sheets,

 

“spread your _fucking_ legs,” Derek is definitely growling now as his large hands grip Stiles’ thighs, thumbs pressing up maddeningly close to his crotch, and spreads his legs apart. Stiles is breathing hard and fast, head spinning with the suddenness of it all.

 

“And then I’m going to fuck you,” Derek rasps, moving over Stiles, placing a surprisingly sweet kiss to his lips, and then ruining the tenderness by leaning over and whispering in his filthiest voice,

 

“ _and you’ll even let me come inside_ ”

 

Stiles is gone before they even begin.

 

* * *

 

Derek prepares him patiently, fingers twisting inside Stiles’ entrance while he murmurs alternately soft and dirty things against Stiles’ skin. Stiles feels the burning stretch of his hole acutely, visualizing it as a cascade of thousands of tiny needles prickling along his nerves, he’s balancing on the thinnest edge between pleasure and pain. He arches into the touch, thighs clenching when Derek finds his prostate, teases it mercilessly.

 

They kiss, sloppy and wet, swallowing each other’s moans like air. Derek’s other hand presses Stiles’ thighs open, strokes callused fingers against the soft skin there. His eyes rake along Stiles skin like a trail of sparks, taking in the wanton spread of his thighs, legs bent up at the knee. He watches three of his own fingers disappear into the angry red pucker of Stiles’ entrance, watches the quick up-down motion of Stiles’ chest as he pants out half-formed expletives. He’s mesmerized by the slow pull of Stiles’ long-fingered hand as he strokes himself.

 

“Derek, fuck, I need you to…” Stiles gasps, and he’s so perfect, laid out and frantic, that Derek pulls his fingers out and goes in to kiss his gaping mouth. They kiss, hot and deep, Derek’s cock pressing against Stiles’ hip. Then Derek flips them, so Stiles’ weight is comfortably on top of him. Stiles hands are everywhere, scraping blunt nails down Derek’s chest, running along his sides, diving into his thick black hair.

 

“I want to…I’m going to ride you,” Stiles says, staring intently into Derek’s eyes. Derek’s cock twitches and he’s nodding frantically as Stiles sits up, fingers wrapping around Derek’s length.

 

“Ssssstiles!” Derek hisses, as Stiles sits and takes his length slowly, until he’s fully settled. Stiles bites his lip, eyes squeezed shut, and breathes out shakily. The half-remembered dreamlike feeling of Derek is nothing like the reality of him, hard and enormous inside Stiles. His hands flex at Stiles’ hips, and he thrusts up slightly. Stiles head falls back and he moans.

 

They settle into a rhythm, Stiles rolling his hip down into Derek’s deep thrusts. Sweat gathers on their skin again, and Stiles wonders briefly why they even bothered with showers.

 

“I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” Derek pants, his hands are splayed against Stiles’ ass, lifting him, spreading the cheeks around his turgid length. Stiles thrusts faster, his muscles tight and quivering, the noises he’s making would be embarrassing later, but he can’t hold them in. Derek snarls and sits up, flipping them so Stiles is beneath him. Derek drags Stiles’ legs up around his shoulders and leans in, his strokes long and so so deep.

 

“Please,” Stiles begs “ _Please_ ”

 

Derek fucks into him, over and over again, face set in harsh concentration, folding Stiles nearly in half with the force of it. Stiles reaches down, strokes his weeping cock with too much urgency to be skillful. Derek’s lips are on his again, and their kiss is definitely too wet, too much tongue, too much hot panting breath. But it’s perfect, from the slick slide of tongue against tongue, to the rhythm of Derek’s hot length pounding inside of him.

 

Stiles feels his orgasm, powerful and crushing, closing in on him. His fist speeds up, walls already clenching, tightening around Derek who groans low in his throat and licks a long stripe against Stiles’ neck.

 

When he comes, he sees stars.

 

Derek’s strokes are fast and hard, all about taking, taking, taking. He looks directly at Stiles, holds his gaze as he fucks him hard and fast.

 

“Can I?” he asks in a strangled voice, and Stiles smiles,

 

“come on Derek,” he whispers,

 

“ _come inside me_ ”

 

When Derek comes, he grinds into Stiles one last time and stills, emptying his load so Stiles feels it hot inside him. He knows _that’ll_ be difficult to clean, but forgets momentarily as Derek pulls out and draws Stiles in for a long kiss.

 

“We good?” he asks, still sounding slightly out of breath.

 

Stiles already feels the soreness settling in, knows he won’t be able to walk quite right the next day. The wait had definitely been worth it; so he smiles, snuggles into the solid warmth of Derek’s body for a moment before they have to get up and shower again.

 

“Yeah.” He says.

 

“We’re good.”

* * *

 

**Author's Note:**

> THE END!
> 
> AN: WELLP! That ends Lone Wolf and Lil Red! OR DOES IT!? I don’t know, I never know with these things, but this seems like a nice place to leave off. The EDM show they go to in this installment is basically Electric Adventure, except not at Six Flags. I did not make the part about there being families there up. Electric Adventure was done on a normal-ass park day, and it was kids walking around while girls in tiny multicolored bras and tiny shorts, and all sorts of things wandered around. Guys were in paint and neon shirts shouting stuff at each other and drinking beers. And of course everyone was obviously rolling. Like…OBVIOUSLY rolling. And the bathrooms? Lord! Parachuting next to a mom and her kid having a wee doesn’t sound like all that great a time to me >>. Anyways, the point is, it's a weird combo. Why they would do that, beyond obvious economic reasons, escapes me. Its not like the event planners didn’t know wtf goes on at EDM events, come now! Anyway that’s the gist of what they went to see, think EDC or E-Zoo on a smaller scale. I hope somebody gets my raft reference!


End file.
